Not What It Should Feel Like
by SkyeRose
Summary: She glanced back down at the box. Not the right hands. Sam forced herself to inhale, feeling for all the world like she was imploding and exploding at the same time. And she'd seen that happen before. Not pretty.-Kind of a drabble. SamJack


**Not What It Should Feel Like**

**A/N: So, I wrote this a little while ago in a fit of inspiration. I was going to write more, but I think I like it as kind of a short drabble bit. Just a little inside view into Sam's mind. **

**Spoiler for 'Affinity.' Obviously.**

**Enjoy!**

This isn't what it should feel like. Sam's eyes settled on the black velvet box and the hand holding it. A hundred different emotions coursed through her, flitting by too quickly for her to identify. She was only able to discern the emotions she _wasn't _feeling. Happiness, joy, fulfillment, surprise, wonder, love…not a single one filled her heart. Instead she felt heavy; unsurprised and regretful.

She glanced back up into the light brown eyes trying to hold hers so eagerly. Not the right eyes. She glanced back down at the box. Not the right hands. Sam forced herself to inhale, feeling for all the world like she was imploding and exploding at the same time. And she'd seen that happen before. Not pretty.

"Marry me, Sam." Was that a question or a demand? Sam didn't know, but she felt herself bristling without logical reason. Swallow it down. Look at him.

'_You're not right.'_ The thought was unbidden and Sam was sure a hint of it showed in her expression, watching as the light in his gaze dimmed a bit. "I…" I'm sorry. For you. For me. I'll marry you. But then I'll be even sorrier. I don't want to hurt you. You're attainable. We could do this. We can do this. I can't do this.

Sam took a deep breath, her unwanted inner monologue filling her head and choking her with words she knew she couldn't say. He cocked his head to the side. _'Like a dog.'_ Sam squeezed her eyes closed. That was rude. _'Be careful what comes out of your mouth, Carter.'_ Sam opened her eyes again and focused her gaze back on the box.

It should be right. Black velvet box, satin white padding, unassuming ring just glittery enough to catch the sunlight. It was a gorgeous day, kids were laughing in the background, and the threat to the universe was at a relative standstill. It should be perfect.

This isn't what it should feel like.

"Sam?" He was doing the puppy dog thing again. Sam worried her teeth against her bottom lip and felt anger rising up amid her florid emotions. _'I shouldn't be angry. But he will be.'_

"Pete, I…thank you." She said the words slowly, fighting against her urge to pat his hand. Thank you? Not exactly the greatest response her brain had ever come up with. But it kept the words she really wanted to say from surfacing.

You aren't who's supposed to be doing this. You aren't who I want to be doing this. Not you. Not you. Not you. Him.

"Thank you?" He repeated, just as slowly. He was pulling away, his outstretched ring laden hand falling to rest on his knee. He hadn't even gotten down on his knee. But did she want him to? Was that what she wanted?

No. That didn't matter. He was still wrong.

She'd been proposed to before. That hadn't felt right either. Jonas had just gotten back from a classified mission he'd deemed a "cakewalk." But something had shaken him, she'd seen it the second he'd shown up at her base quarters. He'd leaned against the doorframe, his features shadowed, and asked in a quiet voice, "Marry me?" It wasn't right, everything about it—_him_—felt off, but she wasn't sure what she was supposed to feel and she'd agreed. Not said yes. She'd agreed.

And look where that had gotten her.

This wasn't right.

She couldn't do this again.

Sam pressed her lips together, gathering all of her hurtful words, and she swallowed—hard. "Pete, I…I need time." She stumbled over the last word, wanting to not leave it so open-ended. _'Worried he'll stalk you again?'_ She tightened her jaw when the little voice in her head piped up. Don't listen. Make this right. "I need to think."

"You need to think?" Was he just going to keep repeating her?

"Yes." Because this isn't right. Maybe time can make it right.

No. Why even try to lie?

Pete took a deep breath and gave her a small smile. Gently taking her hand, he flipped it over and placed the small box on her palm, letting her close her own fingers. "Take all the time you need, Sam."

Sam felt the prickle of tears behind her eyes. He was a good guy, proved if nothing else by this quiet acceptance. Did he know? Could he see what she really wanted written on her face? Could he see the proposal she really wanted?

Sam watched as he walked away, shoulders drooping just slightly more than usual. Twice she'd been proposed to. Twice it had broken her heart. Proposals shouldn't do that-they shouldn't be an event she dreaded. None of them would ever be right. At least none that would ever happen to her.

Sam sighed and glanced at the park behind her. Spending her life with Pete shouldn't make her chest hurt, the thought of having kids with him shouldn't make her cross her legs…the box in her hand _shouldn't_ break her heart.

This isn't what this should feel like.

**End**

**A/N: No real point to this. Just drabble. Please R and R!**


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